Perfectly Ridiculous
by GothicFaery94
Summary: A game of Truth or Dare leads John and Sherlock to rethink their feelings for one another. Hey, at least it's not Cluedo. John/Sherlock.
1. Drumming Song

This is my first Sherlock Story :) So please go easy, would ya? I was actually just introduced to this show, like, three weeks ago and now I'm OBSESSED! It's probably one of the best shows I've ever seen so naturally I had to write a fic about it :) Anyway, review and tell me what ya think!

Disclaimer: I don't own a damn thing cuz if I did...well, you don't wanna know :) lol and I don't own Florence + the Machine or any of there songs!

Enjoy!

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_**Drumming Song**_

_"There's a drumming noise inside my head_

_That starts when you're around_

_I swear that you could hear it_

_It makes such an all mighty sound"_

_-Florence + the Machine_

"John!"

John Watson looked up over his newspaper at his ridiculous, crazy, annoying, immature, extremely intelligent best friend, Sherlock Holmes and sighed, loudly. "What is it, Sherlock?"

"…I'm bored.

"And what exactly am I supposed to do about that?"

"Well, you see, it's quite simple. Even someone like you could do it." Sherlock explained. "Entertain me."

John rolled his eyes behind his newspaper. "I'm busy."

"I'm bored."

"Congratulations. I'll alert the media."

"I'll shoot the walls again…"Sherlock threatened.

"So, what would you like to do, your majesty?" John grumbled, setting down his paper.

"Anything."

"Why don't you just watch crap telly?"

Sherlock looked over at him from the couch on which he had himself spread out like a lazy cat. He really was quite like a cat at times. Lazy when the mood struck him, which was just about all the time, vicious when you upset him or did something he wasn't exactly happy about, and, strangely enough, rather affectionate when you pleased him. Sometimes, John pictured Sherlock with a pair of cat ears and a tail, which usually made him chuckle.

"I don't want to watch telly. I want you to entertain me, John!" Sherlock whined like a child.

"I don't know what to do to entertain you, Sherlock!"

Sherlock smirked. "We could play Cluedo again."

"…You're a horrible person, you know that?" John muttered while shaking his head.

A deep, rumbling chuckle was all he got in reply. John heaved himself out of his chair and went into the kitchen. When he opened the fridge, he quickly shut it again with a disgusted shout.

"Oh, what now?"

John stormed back into the living room. "Why the hell is there a jar of eyeballs in the fridge?"

"Experiment." Sherlock replied, nonchalantly. "They're not human ones! They are cow eyeballs."

"Why don't you entertain yourself with that?" John exclaimed before mumbling under his breath. "Where the hell did he get...nevermind. Don't wanna know."

Sherlock sighed. "Because I'm bored with it."

"You are the most childish person I've ever met." John muttered.

"Entertain me or I'll get out Cluedo _and_ I shoot the ceiling where your room is." Sherlock threatened, smirking.

"Fine, fine!" John relented. "What do you want to do?"

There was a moment of silence as Sherlock took a few minutes to think, closing his eyes as he did whenever he ventured deep into his mind palace. John sat back down in his char and waited. He almost jumped when Sherlock let out a loud gasp and bounded from the couch to John's chair.

"Truth or Dare." The consulting detective exclaimed, a crazy grin on his pale face.

John blinked. "What?"

"Truth or Dare. John, really, do try to keep up."

"_You_ want to play Truth or Dare?" John asked, narrowing his eyes. "I wasn't even aware that you knew what that was."

Sherlock rolled his gray eyes at the doctor. "I don't delete everything from my mind, John."

The doctor raised an eyebrow. "Not even something as silly as the Truth or Dare game?"

"Are you going to play it with me or no?"

John sighed. "Fine. You start then."

Sherlock grinned. "Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

"John, I expected more from an adrenaline addicted Army doctor." Sherlock teased. "What is the most annoying thing you've ever heard?"

John chuckled. "Oh…um…do you really want me to answer this?"

"Yes." Sherlock replied, immediately.

"Your endless, obnoxiously loud whining."

Sherlock scowled. "I do not whine!"

"Hey, you asked, I answered."

"Oh fine then. Your turn." Sherlock pouted.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Dare."

"Oh, now look whose the adrenaline addict." John chuckled. "I dare you…"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"

Suddenly, John grinned. "I dare you to eat those eyeballs you have in the fridge."

The look on the consulting detective's face was enough to make John burst into hysterical laughter. It was a mixture of pure horror, disbelief, and quite a bit of resentment. Resentment, John assumed, was more toward Sherlock himself for ever having brought those grotesque things into their flat. That was…a bit not good. John smirked as Sherlock looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Oh, no, Sherlock Holmes. You wanted to play this game, now we're playing it." John taunted, howling with laughter.

"You can't be serious!" Sherlock complained.

"If you don't get on with it, I'll make you eat them _while_ filming you on my phone."

Sherlock's eyes widened. "You wouldn't…"

John grinned. "And then I'll send it to everyone at the Yard."

It took a moment for Sherlock to make his feet go toward the refrigerator and it took him a few more to actually get the eyeball out of it. He look over at John again, a clear look of 'Please-don't-make-me-do-this' was written all over his face.

John shook his head then decided to show Sherlock a little mercy. "You can cook them, how's that?"

"Not an exceptionally pleasant difference, but I suppose it'll do." Sherlock sneered; setting the eyeballs next to the stove then stopped and turned to John.

"…What?" John asked.

"I…cannot cook."

"I…um…what?"

"John, you know perfectly well how much I detest repeating myself."

Blinking, John slowly started to smile until he looked like the cat that stole the cream. "Are you, Sherlock Holmes, actually admitting that you can't do something?"

"John…"

"Did I hear that right?"

"John…"

"Maybe I should get my hearing checked, you know I'm not as young as I used to be and all that damn gunfire and explosions really do take a bit out of someone's hearing so maybe…"

"John Hamish Watson, if you are done with you senseless prattling…" Sherlock shouted, "would you kindly assist me in the cooking of these…eyeballs so that we may proceed on with our game."

"Alright, alright!" John replied, strolling into the kitchen. "All you had to do was ask nicely, you know."

Sherlock gave him such a glare that John felt he might die on the spot from the intensity of the icy look in his best friend and flatmate's eyes.

"You know, you don't have to do this…if you don't want to."

"I'm not a coward, John."

"Never said you were, but…"

"Get on with it, Doctor." Sherlock commanded.

"Well…um…I don't want to get you sick." John admitted, looking sheepish.

"John." Sherlock started.

"Yes?"

"Cook the damn eyeballs so I can make you eat something disgusting too." Sherlock replied, looming over John in such a way that he would've made Godzilla look small and puny.

It was then that John noticed something. Something that wasn't quite right. It was something that he'd never noticed until now simply because…well, he didn't have the time. He began to notice that whenever Sherlock was in close proximity that his heart would begin to pound relentlessly against his ribcage, in such a way that John was sure he was having a heart attack. It was rather strange, given the fact that John had always, _always_ corrected people whenever they assumed that he and Sherlock were in a relationship.

He wasn't…_gay_…was he?

John was pretty sure that the only homosexual in his family was his sister. He had never been attracted to another man before, but then again, John had never known a man like Sherlock before. There wasn't a man like Sherlock, except…Sherlock. Then what the hell

"John, are you going to stare at me all night or are you going to cook those disgusting things?" Sherlock exclaimed, bringing John out of his thoughts and back to reality.

John nodded. "Yeah, right." He got out a pan and started to cook the eyeballs. The smell itself was testing his gagging reflex and made him worry just a bit about whether or not he should let Sherlock eat these things. They could make him very sick and oh, god, then John would have to take care of the overgrown six foot baby that was his friend. Now _that_ would be the most annoying thing ever. He glanced over his shoulder. "How do you like your eyeballs? Spicy, salty, or garlicky?"

Sherlock glared. "Don't make me come over there."

_Oh, god, come over here, you sexy hunk of man meat_ _What the hell?_ John's cheeks soon flushed bright pink as he mentally kicked himself in the ass. What in the hell was that?

"Do take your time!"

John shook his head and finished cooking the eyeballs before setting them on a plate. They looked better before they were cooked, in John's honest opinion. They were mushy and looked liked something that someone from the Food Network _wouldn't _do. He very reluctantly set the plate down in front of Sherlock and watched him.

"Are you sure that you want to eat that, Sherlock?" John questioned. "Because that looks positively disgusting."

Sherlock made a face then looked up at John. "I dare you to help me eat it."

"I'd rather lick Anderson's ass, which is saying a lot." John giggled. Sherlock smiled, despite the fact that he was about to eat something that resembled a monster from his darkest dreams.

"Well, start planning my funeral, John." Sherlock joked before taking a bite. Almost immediately, he turned green and held out his hand to John.

"Sherlock?" John questioned, grabbing his friends outstretched hand. He'd be lying if he didn't admit that he felt butterflies in his stomach as soon as he touched Sherlock.

The consulting detective didn't answer and instead began to chew and then he swallowed with a shudder. Several minutes passed until John began to panic and squeezed Sherlock's hand.

"Are you okay?"

Sherlock's eyes slowly made their way over to John, but he still didn't reply.

"Geez, is my cooking that bad?" John tried to joke, but failed miserably.

Taking a deep breath, the detective replied, "Okay, no more daring other people to eat the body parts in the refrigerator."

"Are you alright?" John asked again, giving Sherlock's hand another squeeze.

"I'm fine. That was just…horrible." Sherlock groaned.

He and John shared a look before they both said, "It needed more salt."

They both began to laugh while John disposed of the nasty things and cleaned the plate before they both settled in the living room. It was a few minutes before Sherlock finally said, "Alright. It's my turn."

"Oh, you can't possibly be serious!" John exclaimed, looking at Sherlock like he'd just sprouted two heads.

"I most certainly am serious. Now Truth or Dare?"

"Truth." John replied, immediately.

Sherlock smirked at him. "You looked frightened for a minute there."

"Ask your damn question, you lanky bastard."

"Oh, that's charming, that is!"

"Sherlock…" John said, before taking a sip of the tea he left near his chair.

"Do you find me attractive, Dr. Watson?"

John would've liked to tell you that his tea did not spurt from his lips like a fountain. He'd like to tell you that Sherlock didn't howl like a god damn monkey at him. He'd like to tell you all that, but he can't because he's too busy coughing and hacking while Sherlock is laughing his ass off. Suddenly, he wishes he'd dared Sherlock to eat _all_ of those eyeballs. _Sexy, gangly bastard…oh my god, did I just call him sexy?_

"John, are you alright?" Sherlock asked, still chuckling.

The only reply he received was John giving him the finger.

"I'll wait till you're done hacking and can breathe properly."

_Oh, how kind of you, you horrible, awful, terrible, sexy, intelligent__ Stop!_ John shook himself from his traitorous thought and took a couple deep breaths before he replied, "I bloody refuse to even acknowledge that question."

"Why? Because you do find me attractive?"

"No "

"So you don't find me attractive?"

"Now I didn't say that "

"So you _do_!"

"Sherlock!" John yelled, glaring at his smirking friend. "That is _not _whatflatmates talk about."

"Why?" Sherlock asked, curious.

"Well, because…it would probably change things."

"How?"

John gave him an incredulous look. "Sherlock, are you telling me that you honestly don't know how this could possibly change our relationship?"

"Would it help if I said that I find you attractive?"

"I…wait, you do?"

Sherlock nodded, smiling slightly. "Yes, John, I find you very attractive."

_Jump him! Jump his ass, John Watson! GO FOR IT!_ He mentally kicked himself and shoved those naughty thoughts to the back of his mind. He could just feel his heart rate rise into the triple digits. _Oh god…_

"Well, thank you, Sherlock." John managed, looking at anything but Sherlock.

"Your welcome, John." Sherlock purred.

_Purred? REALLY?_ _You're doing this on purpose, aren't you, you bastard?_

John blinked then cleared his throat. "I…um…think you're…um…rather handsome…too."

The smile that spread across that man's face was purely sinful and made John's pants almost unbearably tight. Oh, he was _sooooo_ doing this on purpose! His gray eyes sparkled mischievously as he damn near bored holes into John's face. The good doctor shifted in his chair and crossed his legs, almost groaning when his body let him know that he was definitely in the mood. _Oh, great…_

"Excellent!" Sherlock exclaimed, smiling. "Your turn, Dr. Watson."

_Oh you're a horrible man, you know that?_ John thought, growling under his breath. "Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

_Would you let me fuck you? Please let me fuck you__Stop! No more! Bad, John! BAD!_ John decided to play it safe and boring. It was either that or rape his flatmate, and he wasn't too keen on that idea…for the moment.

"What's your favorite color?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "That's rather boring, isn't it?"

"You gonna answer it or are you going to complain?" John asked, tired and horny. _God, I need a drink…_

The consulting detective brought his hands to his lips his usual thinking pose and took a few minutes before he answered, "Blue."

"Blue? Really?" John muttered. "I would've thought it was purple."

"Why?"

"'Cause you wear that damn purple shirt every chance you get!"

"This is coming from the man who wears jumpers every day." Sherlock rumbled, amused.

John shook his head and waved his hand, as if he could make the conversation disappear. "Alright, alright. Your turn, right?"

Sherlock nodded.

"Ask away."

"Truth or Dare?"

John mentally kicked himself for this. "Dare."

"I dare you to not date any of those horrible females of yours for three months." Sherlock smirked.

"Three months?" John said, incredulously. "I have needs, Sherlock."

"You have a hand, John. Two, in fact."

"I'll end up with Carpal Tunnel."

Sherlock laughed. "You'll live."

"Jackass…" John mumbled. "Truth or Dare?"

"Dare."

"I thought you knew better than that, Sherlock."

He shrugged. "I'm not a coward."

John sighed. "I dare you to…wear that deerstalker every time we go out for three months."

Sherlock looked like a deer in headlights. "What?"

"Hey, why should I be the only one to suffer for three months?"

"I think I'd rather get Carpal Tunnel."

"Right, well, I'm getting tired." John sighed, getting up out of his chair. "Let's continue this another time, eh?"

"Tomorrow?" Sherlock asked, almost childishly.

John chuckled. "Yes, Sherlock. Good night."

He was halfway to his room when heard Sherlock's reply.

"Good night, John."

He shuddered all the way up to his room.

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Tell me what you guys think! :) Please be nice cuz if I get a flame, I'll cry D': Seriously, though, no flames! I'll give you a cookie if you review :)


	2. Howl

Wow, two chapters in one day :) Yay! Thanks so much for all the lovely feedback!

By the way, someone brought to my attention that the eyeball thing was kind of a cannibalism thing. I fixed that. They were cow eyeballs, which isn't that much better cuz thats nasty, but it isn't cannibalsim so its all good! :) Sorry about that!

Enjoy!

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_**Howl**_

_"If you could only see the beast you've made of me_

_I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free_

_Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart_

_Drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart…"_

_-Florence + the Machine_

Sherlock watched as John left him alone in the living room before he let out a breath that he wasn't even aware he was holding. It was all he could do to keep from tackling the good doctor and ravishing him senseless, which was the most ridiculous thing ever considering the fact that Sherlock was…well, Sherlock. He was very much aware that people that he was heartless and at first, he wasn't exactly bothered by it.

And then John came.

As soon as that man enter that lab, Sherlock's frozen heart melted instantly. It was utterly silly the way that John affected him so, but there it was. And it only got worse the longer they lived with each other and grew to know one another well. Every single thing about John made Sherlock's heart skip a beat. Those horrible jumpers he wore made him look almost edible. When he was sipping tea that he always made perfectly Sherlock was, for once in his life, jealous of a frickin' teacup. Whenever John went out with one of those insipid creatures that he called attractive and fun, Sherlock wanted to kill them. After solving crimes for so long, he'd probably get away with it.

He shook his head, dark curls swayed with the movement. _This is preposterous! I am supposed to be above all of these emotions! This isn't exactly my 'area' and I'm not quite sure I want it to be at the moment._

"It's no wonder people want to have sex all the time, if they feel like this!" He muttered, growing more and more agitated. "If I continue to feel like this, I'm going to need a cigarette. Badly."

Sherlock stood up and began to pace.

"Maybe if I try to No! No, no, no!" Sherlock fisted his hair in both of his hands. "I am not an animal! I am above all this! This is idiotic and I refuse to participate to the degrading activity. I'm thirty-five years old, not seventeen! I will not do it!"

He sat back down.

Then got back up.

Then he sat back down.

And got back up.

Then he sat back down and grabbed the pillow, bellowing into it with all his might. _THIS IS ABSURD!_

Sherlock set the pillow back down and sighed. "Fuck this."

He went back into his room and fell into a fitful sleep.

"Sherlock!"

Gray eyes snapped open and landed on the owner of the voice. "Yes, John?"

"Are you alright?"

Sherlock rolled over so he could look at John a bit better. "I was until you woke me. Honestly, you're the one who says I need to sleep more and then you go and wake me. John, where's the logic in that?"

"You've slept till noon, Sherlock." John chuckled as his flatmate's eyes widened in disbelief.

"Not possible. I haven't slept this long since I was a child."

"Well, it's one in the afternoon and you've slept passed noon."

Sherlock looked at his clock and let out a groan. "Really?"

"Yep. Sorry, mate."

"Right, well, help me up, would you?" Sherlock asked, just looking for an excuse for John to touch him. _Damn it…_

John did as he asked and pulled him into the kitchen. "You want some tea?"

"Yes."

The consulting detective sat himself down at the kitchen table, which was surprisingly clean for once. John quickly made Sherlock a cup of tea and sat it down in front of him while taking the seat across from him, drinking his own tea and reading the newspaper. Sherlock took a slow sip of his tea, staring at John. The good doctor was wearing that striped jumper of his that Sherlock was extremely fond of. His thick blond hair was slightly wet, so John had just taken a shower. _Oh god_. The image of John in the shower soon found its way into the consulting detective's mind and for the love of all that was holy; he could _not_ shake the blasted picture from his thoughts. And just because his mind was at times completely evil, it added a bit of motion and some sound. _Is it getting hot in here?_

"Sherlock?" John asked, putting his tea down. "You okay?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes." Sherlock mumbled. "I'm fine."

"Then why are you staring at me?"

"There isn't anything else to stare at that's interesting, John."

Sherlock's heart thundered with glee as he noted that John's ear started to turn a light pink color. It made him look even more delicious than he already did and all Sherlock wanted to do was mug him…repeatedly. _Does this man know what he's doing to me? Does he? I swear that he does this on purpose! _Sherlock thought, grumpily. _And people say I'm cruel…_

John cleared his throat. "So, I don't have to work today."

"Yes."

"And there aren't any cases at the moment."

"Yes." Sherlock repeated, leaning in with a hopeful look on his face.

Raising a pale eyebrow, John said, "So, what would you like to do?"

You. Against the fridge, on this table, in your chair, between the sheets, and in the morgue at Bart's.

Sherlock gulped. "I have no idea."

"Um, you wanna continue our game of Truth or Dare?" John inquired, almost nervously.

The consulting detective gave a toothy grin. "Absolutely."

John chuckled. "I'm sure you're going to regret this."

"Why?"

"Uh, need I remind you of what you ate last night because of this game?"

Sherlock grimaced. "If you don't pick dare today, I will be quite cross with you, John."

"I'll keep that in mind." John laughed. "Whose turn is it, anyway?"

"Mine, I believe."

"Well, go for it."

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth." John relented, smiling fondly at his flatmate.

"Do you like me, John?" Sherlock asked, smirking.

The look on John's face made Sherlock chuckle softly. The kind army doctor really was too easily embarrassed and ooh, how fun it was to make that lovely pink color spread across his cheeks. Absentmindedly, Sherlock began to wonder where else he could make John's skin turn pink. _Mmm, I like how today is starting._

"Uh, yes. I do like you…very much, actually."

Sherlock smiled.

"So, m-my turn?" John stuttered, blushing.

The detective nodded.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

"Do you like me?" John asked, looking at everything, but his friend.

A fluttery feeling filled Sherlock's stomach and he had to take a silent, shaky breath. _Good lord, John! We need to have a conversation about the things you do to me, you horrible man._ Honestly, it was such a cliché the way John gave him butterflies in his stomach. This was something that was supposed to happen to teenagers, not to a fully-grown man who was sociopath albeit a high-functioning one.

"Yes, John. I do." Sherlock replied. "If I didn't, I wouldn't be living with you."

That scrumptious look of embarrassment bloomed on John's face and for once, Sherlock was happy his pajama pants were loose fitting. John cleared his throat again and said, "So, um, your turn."

"Truth or Dare." Sherlock purred.

"T-truth."

Sherlock smirked. "Where do you get all of these jumpers?"

"Oh." John laughed, with something akin to relief on his face. "I get most of them for Christmas."

"Ahhh."

"Why? Do you not like them?"

Love them, detest them, and wish that you currently didn't have one on.

"I like them, as long as I don't have to wear them."

John rolled his eyes. "Naturally. Mr. I-own-every-suit-in-London."

"What's wrong with my suits?" Sherlock demanded, looking offended.

"Nothing. It's just that you wear them all the time."

"So?"

"Even when it's bloody hot as hell outside."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "I don't get hot." _Except when you're around, you bloody bastard._

"Right. I believe that."

"You don't sound like you do."

"I was being sarcastic, Sherlock." John said. "I thought you're powers of deduction were better than that."

"At least mine are better than yours." Sherlock retorted.

"You're such a child!"

"And you look like a model for a sweater magazine. Bite me."

John opened his mouth and then closed it then started to laugh hysterically. Sherlock joined him, unable to shake the thought of John posing for a magazine in one of his hideous jumpers.

"We need medication." John chuckled. "Or booze."

"I like the latter suggestion better."

"Don't we have wine or something around here?" John got up to look and then turned back to Sherlock. "Or did you stick something in that too?"

"John, I don't stick my experiments in every single thing in the flat!" Sherlock replied, drinking the rest of his tea. "Only things that I deem perfect for it."

"Right. I'll believe that when I see it."

_Bend over and I'll show you._ Sherlock thought, smirking while he watched John look for wine.

"Aha! Here it is!" John announced, smiling as he produced the bottle of white wine.

"If we had some fish, we'd have a lovely dinner."

John stopped and gave him a look. "I thought you said that you didn't know how to cook."

"I don't, but I do know certain recipes."

"Right, well, let me know that the next time I cook cow eyes."

"Don't. Speak. Of. It." Sherlock hissed.

John laughed, sending a pleasant shiver down Sherlock's spine.

The doctor poured them both a decent glass-full of wine and sat back down with a smirk. "So…"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Yes?"

"Truth or Dare?"

_God, this is gonna be a long night…_

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REVIEW! They make me happy and I give out free cookies for it! :) Thanks for all the feedback! Keep it coming! :)


	3. Blinding

Here's the third chapter! Thanks so much for the lovely reviews and favorites! Ya'll are so sweet and encouraging :)

Enjoy!

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**Blinding**

"_Seems that I have been held, in some dreaming state,_

_A tourist in the waking world, never quite awake,_

_No kiss, no gentle word could wake me from this slumber,_

_Until I realized that it was you who held me under…"_

-Florence + the Machine

John could feel his heart thundering against his ribcage as he watched Sherlock contemplate whether or not he should say truth or dare. It was slightly entertaining, watching the man think. The good doctor could practically hear the wheels turning in Sherlock's head. It was extremely fascinating the way the young detective thought. Him and his 'mind palace'.

_This man will be the death of me._ John thought to himself, smiling slightly.

"Ah!" Sherlock exclaimed. "Dare."

"Really?" John chuckled.

"Let me have it, Doctor."

_Oh, I'll let you have it, alright, you sexy bastard…I'm not gonna stop having these thoughts, am I? Oh, cheers, mate._ John pushed those thoughts aside for later since they apparently weren't going away anytime soon and said, "I dare you to use Mrs. Hudson's phone to call and flirt with Lestrade for an hour."

"What?" Sherlock yelped, looking at John with disgust.

"It's either him or Anderson."

"You are a horrible man, John Watson."

"You started it." John beamed.

Sherlock growled lowly under his breath and went downstairs to get their landlady's phone. While he was gone, John exhaled shakily. _This is going to be one hellva night. _The stairs creaked as the tall detective made his way back up to John. If looks could kill then John Hamish Watson would be dead twenty times over from the sheer intensity of Sherlock's icy glare.

"I'm going to make you pay for this, John." Sherlock promised, dialing Lestrade's number.

It rang for a few minutes before John heard moaning that could make the bombs in Afghanistan sound puny. Sherlock's pale cheeks turned about twenty different shades of pink as he listened. "Uh…hello?"

"_Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god…_"

Sherlock hung up. "I think he's busy…"

"Good lord, he's getting lucky tonight, isn't he?" John giggled.

"That wasn't Lestrade."

John stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Well, then…who was it?"

"My brother." Sherlock grimaced, throwing the phone away from him as if it carried a disease.

The good doctor burst out into a fit of laughter while his flatmate glared daggers at him. "Oh my god! Mycroft and Lestrade are "

"Fucking, yes." Sherlock cut him off, curtly.

"Oh wow. I didn't he was gay."

"He isn't. Both of them are bisexual."

John's eyes widened. "Jesus, I had no idea."

"Obviously." Sherlock replied, sarcastically. "No more phone call dares, alright?"

"I could make you phone Anderson."

"His wife is away again."

"Oh? He and Donovan having at it, then?"

"Probably."

"I guess we'll find out whenever we get another case. Donovan's knees look like she gets carpet burn from hell." John giggled, running a hand through his hair.

Sherlock chuckled, sitting back down at the table.

John took a large gulp of his wine. "Your turn."

"Right then. Truth or Dare?"

"Fuck it." John sighed. "Dare."

Sherlock gave him a mischievous grin. "I dare you to answer…ten questions absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent truthfully."

"Hey! I chose dare!"

"This is a dare, John."

"Not a very good one…" John muttered.

"Well, you haven't heard my questions yet." Sherlock chuckled.

"Right, well, ask your bloody questions."

"What's your sexuality?"

John sputtered. "Wha…What kind of question is that?"

"Come on, _Captain,_" Sherlock purred, "answer the question."

Heat bloomed in John's belly. _Oh god…_ "I don't…I'm not sure."

"John…"

"I don't know, alright! I guess, I'm bisexual…maybe?"

Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "Maybe?"

"Well, I don't know!"

"Do you find men attractive?"

"I should count that as one of your questions, you lanky son of a "

"Come on, John." Sherlock cut him off. "Do you or don't you?"

John gulped. "…Yes."

"And I already know you find women attractive as well so yes, you're bisexual." Sherlock announced, looking almost…triumphant?

"Yes, alright, Sherlock." John relented with a laugh. "I'm bisexual."

"Good. Now next question."

_Good? What does he mean? How does me being bisexual considered good? Wait, I wonder if__No, no. He's bloody asexual. Nothing turns him on. Not even a former army doctor who apparently just realized that he likes girls and blokes. Lovely…_John took another large gulp of his wine, hoping that the alcohol would dampen his thinking.

"Alright."

"If a man asked you out, would you go out with him?" Sherlock asked, almost shyly.

_Shy? Sherlock Holmes is not a shy man, obviously. So why's he blushing slightly?_ John thought, raising an eyebrow. _Oh god, does he have to look positively edible all the bloody time?_

"Well, it would depend on the man, I suppose." John replied. "But, you know, I did just find out that I…like men so I think I'd have to wait a while and get used to that fact first."

"Oh." Sherlock said, looking down at the table dejectedly.

"Unless…"

"Unless what?" The detective instantly perked up.

John tried very hard not to smile. _Oh…he likes me. Well, obviously, he likes me, but…bloody hell._ "Unless you know…I had liked him for awhile."

"Is there a man that you've liked for awhile, John?"

"I'm counting that as a question."

"Alright." Sherlock said, not really caring at the moment. "Is there?"

John smiled fondly. "Yes."

The smile that spread across Sherlock's face was possibly the first true, sweet smile that John had ever seen. It took years off of the young detective's face and made him look even more handsome than he already was.

"What's your next question?" John asked, still smiling.

"Hmm?"

"Next question, love."

Sherlock's smile widened. "I can't think of one."

John looked at him, incredulously. "Really? That's never happened before."

"No." Sherlock shook his head, dark curls swaying just enough to make John want to reach out and touch them.

"Well, ask me anything."

"Anything?"

"Yes, Sherlock, anything." John laughed.

"Would you…" Sherlock started before clearing his throat. "Would you go out with me?"

John smirked and leaned back in his chair. "Oh, now there's a tough question."

"John…" Sherlock begged, laughing.

"Yes…even though, if you think about it." John said, "Technically, we've already had our first date."

"When?"

"A Study in Pink, Angelo's. We were waiting for the cabbie, remember?"

"That wasn't a date, John." Sherlock said. "That was for a case. I am talking about a real date. You know, where normal people go out, eat, come back, and then make out on the couch."

John grinned. "Normal people? Sherlock, we are anything _but_ normal."

"Well, yeah, but…you know."

"Right. Sure, we'll go tomorrow night, how's that?"

"Sounds perfect."

"Good." John replied, grinning. "So what's your next question?"

Sherlock thought for a moment then asked, "How long have you known that you liked me?"

"Since yesterday."

"What?"

"Oh yeah. You started this bloody Truth or Dare game and I finally noticed that I liked you."

"You took your time." Sherlock muttered, pretending to be offended.

"Alright, how long have you known that you liked me?"

"We sound like lovesick teenagers, you realize this, yes?" Sherlock teased.

"Yes and I could care less. Answer the question, Sherlock."

They both started to laugh.

"Oh, I'd say…right after you shot the cabbie."

John's eyes widened. "Really? Good lord, Sherlock, how have you been able to survive like this? We've lived together for almost a year and a half!"

"…Cold showers." Sherlock replied, sheepishly. "You?"

"Same." John revealed.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes in confusion. "You go out with women all the time. Isn't that a perfectly good outlet?"

"I don't sleep with them, Sherlock."

The consulting detective suddenly started to smile. "Oh, you start think of me, right? When you're about to…?"

"Yes." John growled. "And quit smiling like that! You look like you just won the Olympics."

Sherlock chuckled. "Well, you know if you want to get technical "

"If you finish that sentence, you lanky bastard, I'll bloody roger you ten ways to China."

"I don't see how that is a bad thing."

John giggled. "Buy me dinner first, you ridiculous sod!"

"God, I have to wait till tomorrow just for that."

"You don't have to wait till long. It's already midnight." John said, getting up from the table and taking the empty wine glasses with him. "We should go to bed."

Sherlock started to grin.

"To sleep, Sherlock. To sleep!" John stammered. "God, get your mind out of the gutter."

"You sleeping in your bed?"

"Um…well, that was the plan, yes. Why?"

"Oh, no reason…"

"You want me to sleep with you, don't you?"

Sherlock grinned lecherously. "In more ways than one."

"If you continue on like this, I'll end up taking you on the kitchen floor."

"I'll say it again. I don't see how that is a bad thing."

"Sherlock…" John warned.

"To sleep, John! Just…sleep next to me?" Sherlock begged, almost innocently.

John smiled. "I don't know if I should…"

"John!" The consulting detective whined.

"Alright. Alright."

John helped Sherlock up out of his chair and led him to Sherlock's room. They both settled under the covers with Sherlock's head on John's chest. If you asked them, both men would say that either of them had never slept so peacefully.

* * *

:)

Don't worry, I'm not done with this story just yet :) They still need to go on a date and I'm thinking about putting a lemon in here (it is rated M, after all) but I'm a little worried due to the rumors of FF taking off explict stories :/ I really hope they don't. Fanfiction wouldn't be the same without smutty stories lol Anyway, review and I'll love ya forever! :)


	4. Cosmic Love

Fourth chapter! :) It's date time! I'm thinking of maybe one or two more chapters unless you guys want this to be a long, long story, which I think that I can, maybe do lol Ya'll gotta tell me :) And again thank you for the lovely reviews! You guys are so sweet and I love ya! :) Thanks so much!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Cosmic Love**

"_A fallen star,_

_Fell from your heart,_

_And landed in my eyes,_

_I screamed aloud,_

_As it tore through them,_

_And now it's left me blind…"_

-Florence + the Machine

The first thing that Sherlock noticed when he woke up was that he wasn't alone. He stiffened, trying to remember what happened last night. When the memories finally did come, he relaxed and smiled into John's chest.

"Did you know that you snore?" John rumbled, startling Sherlock a bit.

The detective scowled. "I do not!"

"Oh, you do. Like a bloody bear."

"Is this how you always start the morning with someone your dating?" Sherlock inquired, looking up at John with sleepy gray eyes.

John chuckled. "Well, considering the fact that this is the first time I've ever done this, I wouldn't know."

"This is the first time you've ever just…slept next to someone?"

"Someone that wasn't family, yes."

"God, did you sleep next to your sister?"

John grimaced slightly. "Unfortunately."

"How'd that go?"

"I haven't slept next to someone in about ten years, Sherlock. How'd you think it went?"

Sherlock laughed, softly. He curled into John more and let out a contented sigh. _Had I known that this is what I had been missing all these years, I would've done this earlier…well, okay, maybe only with John._

"What's going on in that massive brain of yours?" John asked, running his fingers through Sherlock's dark curls.

"Everything."

"I'm guessing that that's a bit not good?"

"A little bit. You seem to make it better." Sherlock replied, smiling slightly.

"Happy to be of service." John smiled, pressing a kiss to Sherlock's temple.

"I just realized something, John."

"What would that be, Sherlock?"

"We haven't kissed yet."

John locked eyes with him and nodded. "No, we haven't."

"Could we…?"

"Have you ever kissed anyone?"

"…Once."

"Oh, really? Who was it?"

"…You wouldn't believe me…"

"Oh god, did you kiss your brother?"

Sherlock glared daggers at his laughing doctor. "Really? Shut up!"

"Well, I was only asking! Come on, love, tell me." John begged, pushing a stray curl out of Sherlock's eyes.

"…Donovan."

John's dark eyes became as round as dinner plates. "What?"

"I was drunk! She looked better when I was inebriated." Sherlock explained, blushing. "Now you know why she doesn't like me."

John gave him a look of horror.

"John! You get drunk and see! She looks _sooooo_ much better when you've had a couple shots of tequila."

The doctor started to laugh. "So…um, why doesn't she like you?"

"…I threw up on her head."

"That's it?"

"And I may have given Anderson the idea to only sleep with her when he's drunk."

"Sherlock Holmes!" John laughed.

"I'm telling you, she looks way better after that!" Sherlock exclaimed, smiling.

"Oh my god! You are a horrible man!"

"…That you were gonna kiss before I explained why Donovan feels such hatred for me."

"I'm not sure I want to now."

Sherlock pouted. "Why not?"

"Well, I'm quite sure that I don't you throwing up all over my head!" John teased.

"Oh for god's sake, I was _drunk!_"

"You've had wine, remember?"

"…You're teasing me, aren't you?"

"That's a very good deduction, love."

"You're mean."

"What are you, five?"

"Do I look like a five-year-old, John?"

"No, but you act like one!"

"You know what? You mmmmm…."

John kissed Sherlock firmly, trying to shut him up and trying to enjoy the feeling of Sherlock's lips against his own. God lord, the man had lips like butter! And that Cupid's bow just made it all the better. They released each other, panting softly.

"If that's what it takes to make you be quiet then I'll do that every single day." John chuckled, pressing a kiss to Sherlock's cheek.

"You'd get no arguments from me."

"I figured."

"Shut up and kiss me again."

John laughed, kissing his sweetheart before prying himself very unhappily away from him. Sherlock gave him a look of confusion.

"You owe me a date, love."

Sherlock looked over at the clock. "It's only two in afternoon!"

"Yes."

"We're not women, John! We don't take forty-six hours to get ready for something." Sherlock grumbled, crossing his arms.

"Sherlock, it takes you about an hour and thirty minutes to get ready to go somewhere." John retorted. "I'm surprised that we actually make to a crime scene on time."

"Well, you try living with these untamable curls!"

"Sherlock, I do live with them." John muttered, running his fingers through Sherlock's hair.

"I meant, try managing them!"

"Oh, it can't be _that_ hard and you're doing the look again."

"I have the right, at the moment." Sherlock glared, but his lips twitched uncontrollably.

"Oh fine. Well, at least you have quite a bit of time to manage your hair." John smiled, shaking his head. He gave Sherlock a quick peck before making his way into the kitchen.

"Do we have to dress up?" Sherlock called.

"Well, I don't want you to wear your pajamas, Sherlock."

"What should I wear?"

Sherlock smiled when he heard John mutter 'Nothing' under his breath before he replied, "Wear something nice!"

"Which one of my shirts is your favorite?"

"The purple one!"

"I knew it…" The detective muttered before getting up to tackle his mane of crazy curls.

They ended up going to Angelo's. Of course, there wasn't any real doubt due to the fact that it was the only …romantic restaurant that they liked. Angelo was, as usual, quite happy to have them and when he stuck a candle in the middle of the table, John just smiled. Angelo looked from him to Sherlock then back again and grinned.

"It's about bloody time." Was all he said before going to have their food made.

John shook his head, laughing softly.

"What?" Sherlock asked, confused.

"I thought he already thought we were together."

"Well, now he has proof."

"We just sat down." John chuckled. "How is that proof?"

"John…" Sherlock smirked, motioning toward their hands, which were still linked from the walk over.

"Oh."

"It's alright." The detective kissed the back of John's hand.

"It felt so natural that I forgot." John mumbled.

Sherlock just smiled.

They ate their meals the same way they always did. Sherlock told John about his experiments and John told Sherlock stories from surgery. It was nice and natural. It didn't really feel like much had changed.

"This doesn't feel like a date." John said. "We're doing the exact same thing that we've always done."

"You're still holding my hand." Sherlock replied before taking a bite of his food.

"…Shut up."

They both burst into laughter, almost choking on their food.

"Hush, before Angelo kicks us out." John giggled.

"Like he'll kick us out. He adores us."

"He'd still kick us out."

"Shut up and eat your dinner."

"Yes, Mummy." John taunted then yelped when Sherlock kicked his leg under the table. "That wasn't very nice."

"I'll make up for it." Sherlock replied with a saucy wink.

"Horrible man…"

"I've been told."

"By the way…" John started, grinning.

"Hmm?"

"Truth or Dare?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes. "Really, John? Right now?"

John shrugged. "We giggle at crime scenes, Sherlock. I figured that this wouldn't be any worse."

"Fine. Truth."

The good doctor peered under the table with a lecherous grin. "You in the mood, love?"

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and looked down, groaning. "It's your fault. You and your damn jumpers."

"What's wrong with my jumpers?"

"That's two questions, John." Sherlock grumbled.

"My jumpers get you hot, don't they?"

Sherlock didn't reply, instead he cleared his throat and went to take a drink of water.

"I keep that in mind for the next time you come home and find me in your bed with nothing but a jumper on."

Sherlock choked on his water.

John patted his back, smiling innocently. "You alright, love?"

"I hate you." Sherlock coughed, glaring.

"Love you too, dear."

They quickly paid for their dinner and made their way out of the restaurant only to be soaked by the rain.

"When did it start raining?"

"I haven't the faintest idea."

John pulled Sherlock with him. "Well, let's get home before we catch a cold."

"Doctor's orders, is it?" Sherlock grinned.

"No. _Captain's_ orders." John purred, lacing his fingers with Sherlock's.

* * *

Review and I'll give out free cookies...and cold showers XD REVIEW!


	5. Halo

Fourth chapter :) Sorry about the wait. I had birthdays to celebrate and such :) Anyway, thanks for the reviews and the favorites! You guys are great :)

**WARNING: **Sexual activity in this chapter!

Enjoy!

* * *

**Halo**

"…_Everywhere I'm looking now,_

_I'm surrounded by your embrace,_

_Baby I can see your halo,_

_You know you're my saving grace…"_

-Florence + the Machine

"Achoo!"

John smirked slightly, handing Sherlock a tissue. "Bless you."

"Thank you." The detective moaned, his voice usually a deep, sexy rumble was now slightly nasually. His pale face had a slight blush to it now, due to the fever that had currently taken hold of him. The poor man was sprawled across the couch, his head in John's lap. According to the detective, John's petting and running his hands through Sherlock's dark curls helped him feel better. Naturally, John didn't refuse his beloved boyfriend; especially if he kept purring like a content kitten in his lap.

_Dear god, even when he's ill, I want to mug him repeatedly. _John thought idly, watching crap telly and playing with his sweetheart's hair.

"I hate being ill." Sherlock wheezed, coughing slightly.

"Well, I don't think people normally do, Sherlock." John replied.

"Obviously."

Silence filled the air once more, except for the noise from the telly. It was rather peaceful…for John, at least.

"John…"

"You're bored, aren't you?" John sighed, grinning despite the fact that he hated it when Sherlock was bored.

"You know me so well, John."

"I should hope so."

"You do." Sherlock smiled. "Now, would you kindly do me a favor?"

"Maybe."

Sherlock sat up and glared. "John Hamish Watson, I am ill. Please?"

John laughed. "You're such a baby. It's just a cold!"

"I blame you."

"What did I do?"

"You wanted that damn date!" Sherlock huffed, playfully.

"So did you and if memory serves, you weren't exactly complaining either." John grinned.

Sherlock gulped and looked away. "Yes, well…moving on. I'm bored."

"I'll alert the media."

"John…" Sherlock pouted.

"You don't bloody play fair, did you know that?"

Sherlock grinned, happily. "You love me and you know it."

"God help me, I do."

"I know." Sherlock leaned forward and pecked John's lips. "I love you too."

"Alright, Casanova, we still have a game of Truth or Dare." John replied.

"Ah, yes. Whose turn is it?"

"Yours, love."

"Right. Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

"You enjoy taking care of me, don't you?"

"It has its advantages."

"Such as?"

John smiled. "Well, I rather like it when you cuddle with me."

"John, I do not _cuddle._" Sherlock scowled, getting into John's lap and curling around him until he was comfortable.

"Okay, what do you call this?"

"…Shut up."

John laughed. "I win."

"I wasn't aware this was a contest."

"Right. Truth or Dare?"

"Dare."

"I dare you to eat for a month."

"Oh, John, that's incredibly dull and "

"And sleep too!"

"That makes it even wor

"In my bed." John added, his eyes twinkling softly.

"…Oh….well, I can do that." Sherlock relented. "I sleep better in your bed anyway."

"I wonder why."

"…You want me to say something disgustingly romantic, don't you?"

John smiled. "That would be nice, yes."

"Fine. I sleep better in your bed because you're there. Happy?"

"Ehhh, I think you can do better than that."

Sherlock sighed. "I can't decide what will kill me first. This cold or the sickly, lovey-dovey spew that you request I speak for you."

"If you keep being an ass, it'll be the cold when I leave your ass to sleep by yourself in your own damn bed."

"You wouldn't…"

"Try me." John dared.

"Horrible man." Sherlock grumbled. "Fine. Your mere presence causes me to sleep better because we…_cuddle_ and I feel warm and loved. Better?"

"Much."

"I think I may be sick."

"You already are, you idiot."

Sherlock glared, though not very heatedly. "Truth or Dare, my beloved Doctor?"

"Dare." John snickered.

"I dare you to sleep naked whenever I sleep next to you."

"W-What?"

"You heard me very well. If I have to eat and rest for a month then I should at least get _something_ pleasant out of this."

"I thought sleeping with me was pleasant." John stared wide-eyed at the detective. "Judging from what you said a moment ago."

"You being naked would make it much more _perfect_." He purred the last word, grinning like the Cheshire cat.

"I'm going to get molested in my sleep, aren't I?"

"It's possible."

"Oh, joy."

"Oh, it will be."

"Sherlock."

"John?"

"You sound funny when you're trying to be seductive with a cold." John giggled.

Sherlock huffed and got out of John's lap. "You're a horrible, awful, terrible man."

"So I've heard." John replied, still laughing.

"I hate you."

"Sound even funnier when you're drunk!" John howled. "With that lisp!"

"This is the part of the conversation where I tell you to kiss my ass."

"That an offer?"

"John! I'm ill and you're making fun of me!" Sherlock whined.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry, come here."

Sherlock crossed his arms and pouted. "No."

"I'm sorry, love. Please come over here."

The detective took a moment to consider it and then got back into John's lap. He laid his head back on John's shoulder and made himself comfortable. John kissed his temple, wrapping his arms around his ruffled sweetheart. _God, it's so easy to mess with him._ John thought with a smirk.

"If you're mentally making fun of me, I'm going to bite you."

"I'm not, love, I promise."

"Why don't I believe you?" Sherlock muttered, mostly to himself.

John didn't answer, just pulled Sherlock closer. "Truth or Dare, love?"

"Truth."

"You secretly like being sick, don't you?"

"Only when I get to do this." Sherlock replied. "Although I can deal without you making fun of me."

"Oh, you know I'm only teasing you."

"Still. You're not supposed to tease your sweetheart when he's sick."

"Oh, good lord, Sherlock." John chuckled. "You're such a baby."

"Yes, but you're partial to six foot babies."

"Just one."

Sherlock smiled. He pulled John closer, tilted his head back and slanted his mouth over his army doctor's. John's surprise intake of breath parted his lips, and Sherlock took the opportunity to slide his tongue against John's. To John, Sherlock tasted of something dark red wine, chocolate, and…nicotine? _Oh, you're in trouble, you bad boy…_John mentally chuckled before pulling his detective closer and forgetting why Sherlock was in trouble. God, the man's lips were soft, butter soft. And warm too. _I could get used to this._

Sherlock pulled back slightly, placing little kisses on John's lips. "John?"

"Mmm?"

"I think we should move this," He murmured, raking his nails down John's scalp, "to the bedroom."

"Mmm, yours or mine?"

"Yours. Mine has…an experiment going on."

John pulled back, his eyes narrowing in suspicious. "What experiment?"

"Do you remember those cow eyeballs I had in the fridge?"

"Dear god, tell me you didn't…"

"I did."

"Sherlock…" John groaned, glaring half-heartedly.

"If you take me upstairs, I'll let you ravish me _and_ I'll do the laundry."

John scoffed. "You? Do the laundry? Sherlock, the washing machine is like the solar system to you."

"John, I'm slowly getting turned off by this ridiculous conversation."

"Oh?" John said, reaching down to cup Sherlock's cock through the material of his pajama pants. "Doesn't feel that way to me."

Sherlock let out a choked groan. "John Watson, take me upstairs and ravish me this instant!"

The good doctor grinned before reaching in his sweetheart's pants to grab his fully. Oh good lord…what that genius lacked emotionally, he made up for it physically. _Bloody hell. This man is __**huge**__!_

"John!" Sherlock whined. "Why'd you stop?"

"Huh? Oh, right, sorry."

"You have the strangest expression of awe on your face. What's the matter?"

"Well, you're quite…um…large."

Sherlock arched a dark eyebrow. "So are you. What's your point?"

"Well, uh…"

"John. I'm longer, you're thicker. Shut up and touch me!"

"Yes, sir."

John did as he was told, rubbing Sherlock's length until the detective let out a low moan. He twitched and panted, moving his narrow hips in time with John's hand. The doctor leaned up and kissed his sweetheart's soft lips, swallowing a moan from the other man. When John let his thumb move over the foreskin and head of Sherlock's length, the detective let out a cry.

"_God…_"

"Like that, do you?" John purred against his lips.

"_Ahhh._"

"I'll take that as a yes."

John moved his hand faster, twisting his hand up and down as he pumped Sherlock's cock. The taller man keened, biting John's good shoulder in a useless attempt to keep quiet. John chuckled, kissing Sherlock's neck as he moved his hand faster and faster.

"J-John! _John! Jooooohhhhhnnnnnn!_" Sherlock shouted against John's shoulder, twitching and convulsing as he came hard in John's hand. He sagged, releasing John's flesh from his teeth to pant against his doctor's neck. John smiled, kissing Sherlock's forehead.

"Did you like that?"

"Give me a minute."

John chuckled. "Are you alright?"

"Give me a minute."

"Name the planets in order."

"Fuck you." Sherlock muttered, curling in his lap.

"Thank god, I thought you were broken."

"I believe the term 'afterglow' describes how I am right now."

"That it does." John said, looking down at his hand. "Let me up."

"Why?" Sherlock groaned.

John lifted his hand. "I need to wash my hands unless you want me to lick this."

Sherlock gave him a blank stare before his pale face lit up with a mischievous grin.

"I dare you…"

John's eyes widen. "Sherlock!"

"Come on, _Captain._" Sherlock purred, nuzzling John's neck. "Don't be a baby."

John narrowed his eyes, gently pushed Sherlock off his lap, and whispered in his ear, "I'd rather lick it when your cock is in my mouth."

Sherlock gaped after him as he went into the kitchen to wash his hands. John smirked to himself as he cleaned off his fingers, just waiting for Sherlock's response.

"John Hamish Watson, get your sexy ass back in here!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" John laughed as he made his way back into their living room.

"Not yet, you're not." Sherlock shot up, his legs slightly from his orgasm, and pushed John down onto the couch. He climbed up on top of his soldier and kissed him senseless. He parted John's lips with his tongue and delved in again, tangling with his doctors. When he delved deeper, he stroking and mapping out John's mouth, mentally filing away every detail under the file 'John Watson' in his beloved mind palace. He released John, they both panted and rested their foreheads together.

"Wow, what'd I do to deserve that?" John asked, trying to catch his breath.

"Nothing. I thought if I kissed you madly and made you aroused, you'd take me upstairs and fuck me already."

"You've done this before, haven't you?"

"What, have sex with a man?"

John nodded.

"Yes, I have."

"Oh, good. Now you can show me what the hell I should do." John sighed in relief.

"Oh, yes." Sherlock purred. "I'll show you _everything._"

John shivered slightly. "God, who the hell gives a person a voice like yours? Like bloody dark chocolate mixed with liquid sex."

Sherlock grinned. "I take that as a compliment."

"You should, you evil man."

"Right. So can we get back to talking about you fucking me, my angel, 'cause I'd really like if you did."

"Your angel?" John smiled. "Where did that come from?"

"Something Mrs. Hudson said the other day. She said that you must be an angel in disguise since you put up with me so well." Sherlock explained. "And I think I'm inclined to agree with her. If you squint, you can see your halo."

John rolled his eyes. "Okay, well, get off me. I need to stretch my wings."

Sherlock chuckled, moving aside to sit next to John. "Will you sing me hymns, John?"

"Watch it or I'll shove my harp up your ass instead of my cock."

"Speaking of which…" Sherlock purred, leaning close to John.

"Alright, before we do this, is there anything I need to know?"

"Such as?"

"Any kinks?"

"Define 'kinks'."

"Like, you're not going to go all dominatrix on me, are you?" John asked, nervously.

Sherlock gave him a look. "John, first off, is my name Irene Adler?"

John chuckled. "No."

"And do I look like the kind of person who would enjoy hurting another person while having sex?"

John arched an eyebrow.

"Shut up, John."

"Alright, alright. No you don't."

"Thank you. Now may we please ascend to your room so you can have your way with me already?"

John chuckled, taking Sherlock's hand and leading him slowly up the stairs. "With pleasure…"

* * *

Tell me whatcha think! This is the first guy-on-guy thing I've ever done so tell me how I did :) Next chapter is the last chapter and will have sex in it :) Yay lol REVIEW AND I'LL GIVE YOU COOKIES AND A TIED UP SHERLOCK...Mabye...when I'm done with him, maybe ;)


	6. Bedroom Hymns

Here's the last chapter :'( Don't worry, I'm already writting another Sherlock story :) Hopefully, ya'll will like that one as much as you like this one. Thank you for all the lovely reviews and favorites! You guys are awesome :)

**WARNING**: Sexual Content!

Enjoy! :)

* * *

**Bedroom Hymns **

"…_The sweetest submission, _

_Drinking it in,_

_The wine, the women, the bedroom hymns,_

'_Cause this is his body,_

_This is his love,_

_Such selfish prayers and I can't get enough…"_

-Florence + the Machine

_Okay, I take back what I said about John being an angel…he's the devil!_ Sherlock thought, moaning loudly. His long, nimble fingers had found their way into John's soft, blond hair while the army doctor took his cock into his mouth repeatedly. Good god and Sonny Jesus, this man did not fucking have a gag reflex! Sherlock let out a choked noise when John add a hand to the mix, stroking up and down until the only thing that he saw were stars.

"_Ah_! Jesus Harold Christ, John, where the hell did you learn to do this?" Sherlock whimpered, throwing his head from side to side.

John hummed slightly before letting go with an obscene pop. "What would you say if I told you that I was winging it?"

"I'd say you were full of shit."

"I'm winging it."

"You're full of shit." Sherlock moaned. "Oh god, what are you doing to me, John?"

"Um, blowing your brains out?"

"John, that was rather vulgar and damn it if I did just get harder. John, really!

John chuckled, taking Sherlock into his mouth again. He wasn't lying when he said that he was winging it. Thankfully, he paid a lot of attention when he watched porn. Those ladies were such good teachers! And it wasn't as bad as he initially thought it would be. Sherlock tasted salty and sweet at the same time, and John couldn't get enough of it. Idly, he wondered what it would taste like the jam on it and he mere thought of licking jam off of Sherlock's cock made him harder than a goddamn rock.

"John!" Sherlock keened, griping John's hair hard.

"Mmm?" John hummed around him again, mentally chuckling when Sherlock cried out again.

"_Please_!"

John pulled off with a _pop!_ "Please what, love?" He was messing with him and he loved it. _That's what you get, you sexy, devious bastard!_

"I Please, John, I…ahhh, I need you!"

"I'm right here, sweetheart." John replied, teasing. He swirled his tongue around the head of Sherlock's cock.

"_John!_" Sherlock shouted, arching his back to the point where John was worried that he would snap in half.

"Tell me, love. What is it?"

"You just want to hear me say it, don't you?" Sherlock panted.

"Hell yes."

Sherlock sat straight up and pulled John up to his face, and snarled, "I want you to _fuck _me!"

John smiled, kissing his boyfriend. "God, I thought you'd never ask."

"John, I've been asking for at least an hour. You just ignored me."

"I was not! I was just getting warmed up."

Sherlock gave him a pissed look. "Like hell."

"Oh, shut up and bend over!"

"No, like this." Sherlock pulled John on top of him, his long legs on either side of John to pull him closer.

John chuckled. "You're so bossy."

"Shut up and fuck me."

"Alright, alright. Just give me a minute." He reached over for the lube in his drawer.

Sherlock gave him a half amused, half aroused look. "_You _have lube? Mr. I-Just-Figured-Out-That-I-Liked-Men?"

"That's not what I used it for, Sherlock."

"Then what…?"

John made an obscene jerking off gesture.

"Oh."

"Yeah. Now relax. This might be uncomfortable."

"I _have_ done this before, you know." Sherlock muttered, rolling his eyes.

"When was the last time you did this?" John gave him a pointed look.

_Damn, fine, you got me._ "Just shut up and do it, already!"

John did as he was told, pushing a slick finger into Sherlock. The detective let out a grunt; his expression was one of slight discomfort. He hadn't done this since college and had forgotten how uncomfortable it was at first.

"You alright?"

Sherlock nodded his head, curls bounced with the movement. "Don't stop."

John nodded, pushing in another finger. He twisted and prodded, searching for that one spot

"_Ahhh_!"

_Found it._ John grinned, pressing his fingers against Sherlock's prostate harder. Sherlock's entire frame froze then shook with pleasure. John spread his fingers, stretching Sherlock as much as he possibly could. Sherlock bit his fingers, trying to silence the moans and yelps that John was ripping from his throat. His legs trembled at the delicious friction and the slight burning made it soooo much better. A sudden wail left Sherlock when John took his cock in his mouth while continuing to fill him with his fingers.

"_Oh, god_! Oh god, oh god, oh goooooood!" Sherlock babbled, throwing his head back.

"Need something, sweetheart?" John asked after releasing his boyfriend's cock from his mouth. He pressed his fingernail in Sherlock's prostate hard while giving the underside of his cock a long, luxurious lick. Sherlock yelped, arching and groaning.

"I'm going to kill you, John Watson!"

John chuckled and pulled his fingers out, ignoring Sherlock's whine of displeasure. He grabbed the lube and slicked his own cock up, aligning it with Sherlock's entrance. "You ready?"

"John, I give you five seconds to shove your cock in me or I'll _Ahhhh_!" Sherlock yelled, arching his back as John pushed into him with a single, hard thrust. Oh, it burned like hell fire, but the mere thought of finally having John inside him made Sherlock moan loudly. He wrapped his legs around John's waist and pulled him deeper, groaning lowly. John hissed through clenched teeth, his hands supporting his weight so he didn't crush Sherlock's thin, trembling frame. He pressed a kiss on Sherlock's lips, groaning at the heat that surrounded him. Lithe, violinist fingers grasped his head and held him in place, running blunt nails gently through his hair.

Sherlock moaned softly, slipping his tongue in to slowly tangle with John's. The good doctor practically _devoured_ Sherlock's mouth, using every single trick he ever learned till the consulting detective was panting and groaning against his mouth. When John gave a slow, gentle thrust, Sherlock threw his head back, exposing his long, pale neck. Perfect canvas for sooooo many hickeys. Almost immediately, John latched on and nibbled, sucked, and licked his boyfriend's neck until it was littered with lovebites. While John sucked on Sherlock's neck, he kept his thrusts slow and gentle. The soft whimpers, cries and mewls made John want nothing more than to snap his hips hard and pound like no tomorrow, but he kept it gentle…for the moment.

"Haahh, John," Sherlock whimpered, holding onto John like his life depended on it, "_Please…_"

"What, love? What do you need?" John asked, shakily. He felt the air thicken and suddenly, it seemed as though it were a hundred degrees in the room. Surrounded by Sherlock's lush, tight heat made him dizzy with lust and pleasure. God, it was gooood. He rubbed a bony hipbone in comfort and gave a slightly sharp thrust.

"Ahh, that, John! D-Do that again, do it again, John."

John did as he asked and moved his hips harder. Sherlock cried out, raking his nails down the doctor's back. The heat in the air increased to the point where both men were sweating profusely; the slickness provided easier movement for John's thrusts as he sped up a little bit at a time.

"This good, Sherlock?" John groaned, thrusting harder.

"Oh, oh gooood, John. So good, it feel so good!" Sherlock keened.

"Yeah?"

"_Yes_!"

Picking up the pace, John slowly moved his hand from Sherlock's hipbone to his cock, which lay hard and weeping between them. He wrapped his fingers around it and stroked a little. The reaction was instantaneous; the consulting detective cried out again, moving his narrow hips in time with John's thrusts. Sherlock tightened his long legs around John, pulling him in closer and deeper. Letting go of Sherlock's cock, John pulled a leg away from his waist and lifted up on his good shoulder. The new angle caused John's cock to bang hard against Sherlock's prostate with every deep stroke.

"Ah, J-J-John!" Sherlock cried, gripping the sheets hard until his bony knuckles turned a striking white.

"Come on, love. Come for me." John answered, thrusting harder.

Sherlock bit his lower lip, hard. He had almost forgotten how good this could feel. It had been so many years since he did this, but he swore up and down that it never felt this goddamn_ good_. The constant assault on his prostate and cock pushed him closer and closer to the edge and he wanted soooo much to fall. When John pulled out of him, he almost wanted to weep, but then his lover flipped him over onto his stomach and shoved his way back inside. Sherlock shouted something unintelligent and pushed against John with all his might. _So close!_

"John! John, I-I n-need…" He trailed off, unable to speak. That accomplishment alone just nominated John for the frickin' Noble Peace Prize.

John immediately understood and reached around to stroke Sherlock's cock. "Oh, god, that what you want?" His voice was hoarse and deep, just the mere sound of it drove Sherlock nuts. The detective nodded frantically, banging his fists against the bed while he sobbed and groaned for more.

"John," Sherlock sobbed, his eyes widening and his back arching into John, "I'm-I'm gonna- JOHN!"

Lights exploded behind his eyes as he shouted into the bed, still coming. John groaned at the site and, after a few more thrusts, came harder than he ever had in his whole bloody life. He fell on top of Sherlock, shaking and panting. With some effort, he managed to press a kiss to Sherlock's cheek before resting his cheek on his boyfriend's shoulder.

"Are you alright?" John panted softly.

"Mmm."

John chuckled. "Is that a yes?"

"Mmm."

"Have you lost the ability to speak?"

"I love you."

John smiled and kissed his lover's cheek again. "I love you too."

"I can't feel my legs, John. Is that normal?" Sherlock asked, looking over his shoulder at John.

"You're the one who's done this before. You tell me."

"It wasn't as good as this."

"Oh, go on, love. You keep up those compliments and my ego will be as big as yours."

"Oh, shut up. Roll over, you're heavy."

John laughed and rolled over onto his back. Instantly, Sherlock was curled up next to him with his curly head on John's chest. The doctor wrapped his arms around his sweetheart and kissed the top of his head. "So how's your cold?"

"What cold?"

"Sherlock…"

"I don't have a cold. Or at least, I don't anymore."

John began to chuckle softly. "Good god, if sex can cure colds, I wonder what else it can cure."

Sherlock raised his head and gave John a seductive grin. "Wanna find out?"

"Sure…when I can move again."

"You don't necessarily have to move."

John looked down at Sherlock and arched an eyebrow.

"I could ride you."

"Oh god." John moaned. "You're gonna kill me."

"Oh, John," Sherlock purred, getting on top of his doctor. "I'm not going kill you."

"Sweet Jesus, Sherlock…"

"I'm just going to make you scream."

And he did. Repeatedly.

* * *

So that's that. That was my first slash lemon scene and I was blushing every second I wrote it. Good lord...I may need a cold shower after this XD Anyway, tell me what ya think and be nice! As always, cookies will be provided if you review! They have naked Sherlocks on them :D

Yeah, I know you want them ;)

REVIEW! :)


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